


He's My Long Story

by chiaroscuroverse



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Humor, Other, Reunion, The Master Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6590941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiaroscuroverse/pseuds/chiaroscuroverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Last of the Time Lords, the Doctor gets to “keep” the Master, who claims a strange quirk of regeneration. Ten/Rose reunion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's My Long Story

**Author's Note:**

> For @whatwecanfic‘s April Crack Attack Challenge.   
> Prompt: a fic of any length, pairing or rating based on this music video.  
> (Spoiler: It’s an earworm about a dude with a detachable penis - listen at your own risk of ending up like me, going around your house singing “de-tach-a-ble penis” all day.) 
> 
> Less evil Master than canon. I definitely never expected to write a reunion fic this way, but this is where the muse led! Unbeta’d, (because procrastination).

 

 

 

“I have a detachable penis in this body!” The Master had announced shortly after he’d rolled him on board, strapped to a gurney.

The Doctor had been in no mood. “Oh, do shut up!” And locked him in his room for a few weeks.

They reached an odd sort of peace, once the Doctor and the Tardis cobbled together a dampener for the drumbeat. And while the Doctor knew that it wouldn’t last—only a matter of time before he’d be putting a stop to yet another megalomaniacal scheme—he sometimes admitted to himself that it was…nice. His telepathic shields were firmly in place, but the Master’s mind was, well, _there_ , more chaotic than calculating these days, but at least the undeniable presence of another Time Lord.

Sometimes he couldn’t believe that he’d suffered so much loss ( _“her name was Rose”_ ) that _the Master_ of all people was making him less lonely. But then, maybe this was all he was ever meant to have in the end. His oldest friend and greatest enemy. Nearly domestic. They began to venture out (appropriate virtual controls in place) and at times he was almost lulled into treating him like a proper companion.

If he just wasn’t so bloody embarrassing.

 

Everywhere they went, he found someone to tell about his alleged trick penis. Alien bureaucrats, a Victorian smithy, even King Henry VIII, although the Doctor realized he really should have expected that one. Not a minute left alone, and the Master’s voice rings across the court, “And I seem to have left it in the bath again!” Luckily the king found it all hilarious, and the Doctor got them out of there before the Master lost his other head.

“Fully detachable! You _really_ should have a look at it!” the Master said to the alien woman sneaking them into a trafficking operation. He mimed a twist-pull motion. “The tricks I can do! Trust me, you would never go back to…” he waved a disdainful hand, “whatever it is you’ve got now.”

“Enough!” shouted the Doctor, putting himself between the Master and the woman, who had gone from looking interested to horrified in the span of 30 seconds. He turned to her, “So sorry, left the muzzle off, won’t happen again!” He sonicked over his shoulder and the Master’s voice vanished as his mouth formed indignant words. “Now, where were we?”

 

The Doctor sorted the situation while the Master pouted, and he got his voice control back as they got back to the Tardis.

“You sanctimonious cock-blocker! Just because you’ve decided to be a monk does not mean I shouldn’t have any fun!” He turned on a lascivious grin and sauntered toward the Doctor. “You know, maybe that’s your problem.”

“The only problem I have is a delusional Time Lord in my charge.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The next morning there was a rectangular gift box of a suspicious size on the Tardis console. The Doctor sighed and took it back to the Master’s room. The Master was kicked back watching a football match, hands behind his head. He put on an innocent look.

“I’m not indulging this bizarre fantasy,” the Doctor said, tossing the box on the bed.

“I don’t know why you insist it’s a fantasy, Doctor. You and I both know stranger things have happened with regeneration.”

“I knew you were damaged after the drums, but why you’ve fixated on this—this _anatomy_ thing, I can’t figure out. But it ends now.”

“Rassilon, you’re uptight. Even for a Time Lord!” The Master picked up the box. “Fine then.” He whipped off the lid and before the Doctor could react, something was flying at his face.

The Doctor made an undignified shriek and ducked, but a banana hit him in the forehead.

The Master howled with laughter, rolling around on his bed. “You should SEE your face right now!”  

“I really hate you sometimes,” the Doctor muttered, picking himself up off the floor.

“Being a prisoner here has been worth it all!”

The Doctor slammed the door on his way out.

 

After that he decided to loosen the reigns and make use of the Master and his penis obsession. At least it kept him occupied. Whatever the truth of the situation—and the Doctor refused to see for himself—it seemed to work out in their favor. The Master shagged them out of any number of jams, from a quick jailbreak to a royal orgy. Satisfied-looking people always came out to bid them goodbye and beg them to come back. The Doctor avoided details, as well as thinking too much about the farce his life had become.

 

Still, it was the Master, so the Doctor tried not to let him get too far out of pocket. No telling what damage he could inflict if he decided to start utilizing other parts of his anatomy. On one desert world, the Doctor lost himself for a bit in an old shop and looked up to realize the twin suns were on the horizon and the Master’s tracking device hadn’t made a sound in a suspiciously long time.

He rushed back to the house where he’d left the Master and found a couple drunk people in dressing gowns. And one naked one, to whom he threw a blanket.

“Figured he went back to you, mate! Hey, so how does it work—”

“Right,” the Doctor interrupted, gritting his teeth and speaking with controlled impatience. “How long ago…did he _leave_?”

“Two hours, maybe?”

“Bollocks.” The Doctor ran out into the street and was considering going to the Tardis for a DNA scan, but then his target was ambling up, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Doctor! Let’s go have a nice dinner!” he called, as the Doctor ran up and grabbed his elbow.

“Sorry, no, we are leaving, now!”

“You sure you want to do that?” the Master asked, but gave no resistance and the Doctor pulled him along the street.

“What did you do?”

“Such distrust! Just having a stroll. What is your problem anyway?”

“Oh, so you didn’t disable the tracker? I’m checking timelines before we leave here and so help me, I will put you in the zero room for the next ten years.”

“If you insist on leaving, I can’t stop you, can I?”

 

In the Tardis, the Doctor dematerialized, but the Master sprawled across the jumpseat instead of heading for his room.

“What do you want?”

“I was just thinking, that old _companion_ of yours, what was her name again?”

The Doctor’s hearts clenched, but he said nothing.

“Ooh, the deep dimples of sadness! That’s right, you know who I’m thinking of. Now what is it? Rita? Ruby? Roxanne?”

“I’ve had a lot of friends here. Why do you ask?”

“Rose! That’s the one! Lovely girl, well, in the pictures you think you’ve hidden away.”

“Whatever your angle is right now, spare us both the irritation and go.”

“Merely saying, that’s how I recognized her today.”

The Doctor turned slowly, fury stirring in his gut along with fear and the tiniest spark of hope that he desperately tried to quell. The Master smiled his smug little closed-mouth smile and waited.

“What?” the Doctor said, in the flattest tone he could muster.

The Master just smiled harder.

“What?” Louder now, and in some distant part of his mind he told himself to calm down and get to the bottom of the trick. Because this was a trick. This was impossible.

“Once more with _feeling_!” the Master exclaimed toward the cavernous ceiling, throwing his arms out theatrically.

“What—bloody hell—what are you talking about?” He was shouting now, losing the game. He stopped and took a deep breath. “Just tell me. And maybe I won’t regenerate you today.”

“Oh, Doctor, you love this me, don’t even pretend.” He sat up. “You hadn’t come for me when I got bored, so I went for a stroll. And ran into this lovely young lady who looked so familiar.”

The Doctor stared at him, hearts thudding. He wasn’t showing his usual signs of lying.

“Oh, and here’s the best part! She thought I was _you_ for a bit! Had a lot of tech on her wrist. I said, ‘Rose, is that you?’ and she walked right up to me and put her hands on my hearts and said, ‘Doctor?’ It was ever so sweet!”

The Doctor hadn’t taken a breath in at least a minute.

“I wrecked it, though. Had to mention, well, you know.” He swept a hand down his body. “Then she was all: ‘You’re not him’ and I told her I had you, but she seemed dubious. We had a nice chat.”

Something broke and the Doctor started to laugh. He collapsed against the console, scrubbing his hands over his face and wiping away tears. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I believe you.”

“Doctor, aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I—probably, that is-“

The Master waved at the console. “Go back!”

The Doctor turned, tuning in as timestreams fell away and timelines snapped into place. He set the course to land and turned to walk toward the doors, surrounded by a strange sensation of being there and watching himself at the same time.

The Tardis stopped wheezing. And there was a knock at the door. He already knew before he opened it.

“Hello.” Rose smiled like sunlight, tears spilling.

“Hello.” He pulled the door shut behind him, face threatening to split from his grin. She was inches away from him.

“You’re still you,” she said, and her right hand went to his cheek, this time making contact.

A spark flew through him at her touch and he pulled her into his arms and swung her around to the Tardis door. And then he was kissing her, murmuring “Rose.” And she was warm and soft and real and _here_.

He pulled back. “Ehm, would you like to come in? I guess you have a lot to tell me about.”

Rose laughed and swiped at her eyes. “A bit, yeah. Yeah, let’s go in.”

The Doctor opened the door.

“Oh…your friend? Um, you don’t even want to know what he said.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll drop him on a stone age moon for as long as we need.”

“I heard that,” called the Master.

“He’s _my_ long story.”

Rose leaned in to him as they walked in, still grinning. “I can’t wait to hear it.”


End file.
